As a 41-year-old food lover and storyteller, I’ve tried tons of dishes in my life—but nothing speaks to my soul like Korean food. So here are the 10 Korean Dishes I love the most. From sweet-and-spicy classics to nostalgic childhood recipes, these aren’t just meals—they’re memories, identities, and emotions. And yes, I’ve personally eaten and cooked all of these. Some of them with tears in my eyes, others with a big silly grin. So let’s dig in, shall we?
Fresh Kimchi, Geotjeori
1. Fresh Kimchi Geotjeori
When I think of Geotjeori, I immediately think of my mom making it during every Korean holiday. The fresh crunch of seasonal napa cabbage, the subtle sweetness with a spicy kick—she always added tons of garlic. Korean holiday main dishes are usually heavy, but with my mom’s Geotjeori, it was all balanced. She also made an amazing bellflower cucumber muchim(Doraji oi muchim), which I’ll definitely share someday.
After moving to the U.S., Geotjeori became the kimchi she made the most for the people here—perfect for introducing Korean flavors to locals. Because it’s fresh and unfermented, it looks and tastes like kimchi but is gentler, ideal for newbies. As with all Korean dishes, every family makes their Geotjeori a bit differently. Some let it ferment slightly, but to me, that’s freshly made kimchi for fermentation, not Geotjeori. My mom’s version—lightly salted cabbage, spicy from good quality gochugaru and garlic, and anchovy fish sauce umami—is thestandard. I hope you to try my Geotgeori recipe one day. Pair it with freshly cooked warm rice and nothing else. Seriously, if you truly love Korean food, Geotjeori will steal your heart.
Braised Cod, Daegu Jorim
2. Braised Cod, Daegu Jorim
Introducing Korean dishes without my mom’s stories would be impossible. This braised cod recipe is one of her originals, and although I absolutely love it, my husband Jacob loves it even more. I genuinely enjoy every dish my mom makes—not just because she’s my mom, or because I grew up with her food, but because she’s simply that good. My mom has magical hands. We call “Son-mat” in Korean. Literally means “taste of hand”. Once she steps into the kitchen, delicious food appears in a flash like it’s no big deal. If you think I can cook, you must taste her food.
She’s always loved braised fish. When I was younger, I didn’t appreciate it much, probably because I ate more meat due to my parents’ business. But after growing up and developing a stronger love for seafood, I finally realized just how incredible her braised fish dishes are. She started making braised cod in the U.S. for a simple reason: thick, meaty, flakey, boneless cod fillets were easy to cook and even easier to eat—especially for her blue-eyed husband and American son-in-law who struggled with bony fish like hairtail or croaker.
What started as a practical dish quickly became Jacob’s absolute favorite Korean food. Even now, when we visit my mom, he always asks, “Can you make the braised cod again?” To this day, it’s still his number one Mother-in-Law menu. (Jangmonim Menu, 장모님 메뉴). I hope you try it sometime, too. It’s simple, hearty, and deeply comforting—one of those Korean dishes that makes you feel truly cared for.
Korean Beef Hot Pot, Bulgogi Jeongol
3. Korean Beef Hot Pot, Bulgogi Jeongol
There were many lonely days for me in the U.S. I’m introverted (hard to believe, I know), so I don’t usually approach people first. That might make you wonder how someone like me ended up sharing recipes on social media—but I never had a problem talking to a camera. People, yes. Cameras, no. Maybe because I knew the camera wasn’t judging me? Either way, if no one reached out to me first, I wouldn’t make friends. Thankfully, two beautiful souls did, and through them, I met a few more who are still dear to me today.
This dish reminds me of those early days of loneliness. It might even be around this time I became a workaholic.
The first time I had bulgogi jeongol was when I was about sixteen or seventeen, with my dad. We had just finished delivering organic produce and were driving when we saw a lunch special sign outside a restaurant in Gangnam—mushroom bulgogi stew (Beoseot Bulgogi Jeongol). Oh, nice! Let’s have that for lunch,” we said and walked right in.
We didn’t eat much bulgogi at home. My family were more Galbi people. Bulgogi was something my mom would use as a filling for kimbap. So this hot pot was new and exciting. “Appa, I’ll eat all the mushrooms, you take all the meat!” Even back then, I was a vegetable lover. This is one of the few food memories I have with my dad. I don’t think I had bulgogi jeongol again after that. Maybe because it reminded me too much of him—the father who stopped speaking to me after I married an American. But I still cherish that memory. I hope you try making this dish and share it with someone you love. Maybe it’ll become a memory worth holding onto for you, too.
Donkkaseu (Tonkatsu), Korean Pork Cutlet
4. Korean Pork Cutlet Donkkaseu (Tonkatsu)
When I was little, there was a kind of restaurant in Korea called a gyeongyangsikjip—Western-style diners that served soup, bread, and main dishes like Donkkaseu and Hamburg steak. This was in the ’90s, when Korea was just beginning to adopt fork-and-knife meals in a formal setting. The one we used to go was a red brick building, with interiors that felt completely foreign.
As soon as you sat down, the waiter who dressed up with black pants, white shirts, black vests, and even bow ties-would politely ask if you wanted vegetable soup or cream soup. I always chose vegetable soup. Then came the hardest part—choosing between bread or rice. Everyone knows Donkkaseu with rice is the best. But if you choose bread, you’d get warm dinner rolls with sweet strawberry jam, which, for a kid, was everything. I struggled with that decision every time. I tried bread once (because I wanted strawberry jam!) and eventually, I always chose rice. Partly because the savory sauce went better with it (to my taste), and partly because I could always sneak a few bites of my sister’s roll anyway. That was enough.
These days, Donkkaseu has been demoted to a snack bar staple, sharing space with tteokbokki and kimbap. But back then, going to a gyeongyangsikjip was a special occasion. Even now, Donkkaseu is a “sometimes food” for me—too much work to make regularly. lol! But so worth it, you won’t regret. Unlike Japanese tonkatsu, Korean Donkkaseu comes with a thick, dark sauce that’s our own spin on demi-glace. It’s the kind of taste you suddenly crave in the middle of the night. Once you know it, you never forget it.
Korean-Chinese Spicy Seafood Noodles Jjampong
5. Korean-Chinese Spicy Seafood Noodles Jjampong
There’s a question in Korea that even Socrates couldn’t answer: Jjajangmyeon, or Jjampong, that’s is the question. For me, the answer has been clear since I was eight. I’ve been a Jjampong girl all my life. Hot & spicy broth, juicy seafood, and stir-fried crunch vegetables, chewy noodles—it’s my ultimate soul food.
I still remember a photo my parents took of me when I was eight, eating Jjampong with tissue stuffed in my nose from a nosebleed. (Back then, I had nosebleeds almost every day—we never figured out why. I just remember my mom struggling every morning with pillowcases soaked in blood.) I was slurping noodles, eyes watery, nose plugged with white tissues, and clearly loving every second of it. That moment was must be so funny or absurd—or maybe both—to my mom, she pulled out a film camera to capture it. Film, not phone camera, yet.
We moved a lot growing up, so I don’t have many childhood photos. Only a few remain—the handful my mom managed to hold onto. I can count the photos of my childhood on two hands. But that one photo, that one moment—it stuck. I’ve come to realize that a photo you can hold in your hands isn’t always what matters most. My memories and feelings are enough. If you make this Jjampong, I hope you take a photo with your family. And I hope that moment becomes so beautiful, so meaningful, that you’ll carry it with you for life—something you can return to again and again.
Korean Mixed Cold Noodles Bibimmyeon/Bibimguksu
6. Korean Mixed Cold Noodles Bibimmyeon/Bibimguksu
When it’s summer and nothing sounds good, Bibimmyeon/Bibimguksu is the answer. It’s my go-to. Quick to make, and you can throw it together with whatever’s in your fridge. Cool and refreshing, all you really need to do is boil noodles—and sometimes even that feels like too much.
I’ve always been on team spicy kimchi Bibimguksu. But I’ll never forget the shock I felt when I first tried soy-sauce Bibimguksu. How could something so simple taste so good? It completely changed my perspective. I’m still on the soy-sauce side now, but if you’re torn between the two, I’d say just make both. You won’t know which side you’re on until you taste them. That’s how it was for me, too.
Korean-Chinese Spicy Chicken Kkanpunggi
7. Korean-Chinese Spicy Chicken Kkanpunggi
Jacob is a tangsuyuk guy, through and through. When we were dating in Korea, we went to Korean-Chinese restaurants a few times. And every single time, without fail, he’d order the same thing: Jjajangmyeon and tangsuyuk. Classic, sure. But come on—there are so many delicious options on the menu in Korean Chinese restaurant!
Before we got married, I never dared suggest anything else. I didn’t want to come off as pushy. And honestly, with my English skills back then, I didn’t have the confidence to persuade him. I mean, you know how delicious Jjajangmyeon and tangsuyuk, right? I mean, let’s be honest—trying to talk someone out of Jjajangmyeon and tangsuyuk? That takes serious charm. It didn’t really matter anyway. As long as he didn’t touch my Jjampong, we were fine. 😄
But six years into marriage in the U.S, we returned to Korea for a few months, and I was starving for real Korean food. I couldn’t let Jacob keep ordering the same two dishes every time. I want to eat Kkanpunggi!!! So one day, I looked at him and said, “Just trust me,” and ordered it myself. He pouted a little—his tangsuyuk had been replaced. But when the Kkanpunggi arrived, sizzling and steaming, fried chicken coated in that hot spicy garlic sauce, he took one bite… and then started complaining.
“Why didn’t you let me try this sooner?!”
Ah, the injustice. 😅 Familiar tastes are comforting, but sometimes, trying something new leads to a whole new kind of joy.
Soy Braised Chicken Jjimdak
8. Soy Braised Chicken Jjimdak
Back in my early twenties, Andong Jjimdak was everywhere. It felt like the whole country was obsessed. You’d see Andong Jjimdak restaurants on every corner. Lunch with friends? Andong Jjimdak. Late-night drinks? Andong Jjimdak. A hangover cure? Andong Jjimdak. Dakbokkeumtang (spicy braised chicken) seemed to vanish like a legend. I hadn’t even heard of Andong Jjimdak before it suddenly took over our lives. But the moment I took my first bite, I thought, “How did I not know about this?! This has been out there all along?” It reminded me of the shock I felt the first time I had gamjatang at age eleven.
The saovry, sweet & spicy sauce and the glass noodles and chunks of sweet potato (some places use regular potato) soak up the sauce beautifully. For me, the best part has always been the glass noodles—slippery, chewy, and completely saturated with flavor. If you love chicken, this is a must-try recipe. You can thank me later.
Korean Spicy Garlic Eggplant Maeun-Gajimuchim
9. Korean Spicy Garlic Eggplant Maeun-Gajimuchim
As a kid, I didn’t like eggplant. That soft, mushy texture just wasn’t for me. Neither of my older sisters liked it either. So my mom didn’t cook it often. Even though she loved eggplant. She always adjusted to our tastes, even if it meant skipping the foods she personally enjoyed. Most likely, it was also because she hated wasting food no one would eat.
But now that I’m older, eggplant has become one of my favorite vegetables. When I visit my mom, she always steams a few and makes this simple eggplant banchan. Sometimes it’s spicy, sometimes it’s mild and savory. Between the two of us, we can easily finish four to five eggplants in one sitting.
I wonder what it feels like for a mother to finally share the food she loves with her grown daughter. I’m not a mother (I’m a step-mom but I don’t have my blooded child), so I’ll probably never know. But that’s okay. Because being her daughter—that’s more than enough for me.
Seafood Pancake Haemul Pajeon
10. Seafood Pancake Haemul Pajeon
Whenever I ordered haemul pajeon at a makgeolli bar (including ones in Korea), I was almost always disappointed. I mean, the name literally starts with “seafood,” and yet so often you’d have to dig through the batter with your chopsticks just to find a few sad scraps—barely the size of a fingernail. If there were lots of green onions, I could still enjoy it. But if even that was missing and all you got was a mouthful of dough? I’d want to flip the table, forget the makgeolli, and walk out.
That’s why homemade haemul pajeon is always the best. Just be careful not to overload it with seafood—too much and you risk breaking it when you try to flip. But oh, on days like today, when I crave something hearty and crispy and full of plump, juicy seafood? Nothing beats it. Pair it with cold makgeolli (Korean unfiltered rice wine), and I promise, you’ll feel like you’re right back in Korea.
These are the 10 Korean Dishes I love the most, each carrying memories, flavors, and stories close to my heart. Whether you’re Korean or not, I hope you find something here that speaks to you—and maybe even inspires your own version of home.
